


Eyes Look Your Last

by LawrVert



Category: Hair (1979), Hair - MacDermot/Rado/Ragni
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 07:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13359153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/pseuds/LawrVert
Summary: On a cold winter night, Berger wishes he could see Claude just one more time.





	Eyes Look Your Last

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eriathalia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriathalia/gifts).



The lone, wild-haired young man waited long after the other protestors had gone home in the snow, threadbare jeans and fringed vest providing little warmth from the bitter cold. Looking for one face among the crowd of shivering, blue-lipped youth, he had shouted and wandered aimlessly throughout the town square as hours passed. His best friend and right-hand man for so many pranks and schemes was missing, and Berger knew that he had decided to go to war and fight. Claude was the idealist, the one who would always do what he thought was honorable no matter what. He should have realized there was nothing else the boy who dreamed of Manchester could do, from the moment he couldn’t bring himself to burn his draft card.

The hippie was haunted by visions of Claude tonight, shrapnel tearing through him, shorn and stripped of his power like Sampson, lying pale and still in a shroud. Shutting his eyes, he found a spot under the bridge, made a small fire, and did the only thing he could think of to banish the horrors tormenting him--he lit a joint and inhaled deeply, feeling a pleasant haze cloud his mind. Exhaling a puff of smoke, he felt the tension stretching his muscles taut start to ease. “Claude?” he whispered, then started to laugh hollowly at the absurdity of the moment. Wishing to see him, just one more time, he leaned back and closed his eyes, not moving until he heard the scratch of shoes on gravel. 

“Woof--you’re not sleeping here tonight. You snore.” Groaning, he curled in on himself, trying to get warm. 

“What about me?” Can I sleep here?” The voice was wearier than he remembered, but his eyes shot open and he grinned immediately as soon as he saw his friend standing there in his uniform. 

“Claude?!? Hey--I thought you wouldn’t make it.” Jumping up, he almost lifted the slightly smaller man off the ground as he hugged him tightly. 

“I was pretty sure I wouldn’t. Sorry I was so late. Can I..?” He pointed to the joint in Berger’s hand. 

Handing it over, the dark-haired man watched as his friend took a long drag then blew out the smoke slowly. “Thanks, man.” 

Running a hand through Claude’s prickly short hair, he frowned. “What did they do to you?” 

“They turned me into a soldier. My dad would say they made a man outta me.” Shrugging, the uniformed man sat against the wall and hugged his knees to his chest. 

“So..did you escape? Are you a fugitive?” Sitting beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Berger almost vibrated with nervous energy. “Because..that would be amazing and I would hide you.”  
“No...I have to go back tomorrow. I only have tonight. “ The young man’s voice was strained as if he were about to cry or had been crying before he arrived. 

“I could hide you….Don’t go back there, Claude.” The bare-chested hippie’s hands tangled in the front of the pressed green uniform. Placing his owner hands over Berger’s larger callused ones, he smiled sadly. “I have to. But..” Leaning close, he whispered in his ear, breath warming the shell and raising goosebumps on his arms, “I thought maybe you could make this night a really amazing last night here.” Climbing into the free-spirited man’s lap, he let his hands explore the tan chest and stomach. 

“God.your hands are so warm…they feel so good” The short-haired man’s face was close now, almost touching Berger’s. “You want this..with me?”

Although he was the first to leap into a pool naked or make a pass at any attractive person who walked by, the normally uninhibited hippie actually felt shy. This was different. This was Claude, someone he’d been friends with since they were kids. If he was honest with himself, he’d loved Claude for a long time, and he’d wanted this with him more than with anyone else--more than with Sheila even. Every time he had the chance, he was always leaning on his friend, touching his arm or his leg, hugging him tightly, hoping he felt the same things. To hear the shorter man’s answer, “Yeah, I do.” was the best thing he’d ever heard. 

“We need to get this thing off you first,” Berger said as his hands brushed the front of the uniform, searching for buttons to unfasten. 

“I just can’t get it dirty or wrinkled. The drill sergeant would kill me,” Claude laughed and rested his head on Berger’s shoulder. 

“Fine. But that thing is hideous. Makes the yellow shirt look good.” Holding his hand up as if saying the pledge of allegiance, the long-haired man continued, “I solemnly swear that I will not wrinkle the ugly uniform.” 

Caressing the side of Berger’s face then tapping it lightly, Claude responded, “You are killing the mood, Banana Berger.” Leaning forward he kissed him, just a light press of lips, almost brotherly at first that soon deepened and became passionate as his hands tangled in Berger’s hair, bringing their faces even closer. Claude’s lips tasted sweet and slightly smoky from the joint they had shared and his lean body was so hot against his chilled skin as it pressed against him. His arms encircled Claude’s waist, brought their hips close, causing their cocks to rub against each other. Gasping, he realized Claude wanted him, really wanted him maybe just as much as he wanted Claude. Desperate to feel that friction again, he arched his back, grinding against him almost desperately. 

The hippie’s hands were cold as they unbuttoned his uniform coat and slipped under his shirt in search of skin, yet the man he undressed did not seem to mind. Removing Berger’s vest in turn, he leaned forward to kiss along the skin of Berger’s jaw and neck, trailing kisses over his chest, moving down to nuzzle and nip at the skin around his belly button with its slight layer of padding. One of the other’s hands grappled blindly for the fastenings of the soldier’s pants, stroking him through the rough, starched fabric, then sliding his pants down and slipping his hands into his boxers, watching Claude’s eyes slide shut in pleasure as he stroked his length, thumb circling the tip, spreading the wetness already there. Panting and fighting to concentrate on the fastenings of Berger’s trousers, he was almost relieved to find Berger had only the tanga on beneath the worn jeans. It was easy enough to move aside the fringe without completely removing it as he crouched over him, kissing then licking along his length teasingly before taking him as deeply as he could in his hot mouth and hollowing his cheeks. Although Berger was the more experienced one, he was rewarded with a deep groan and the almost intoxicating feeling of the hippie’s hand, gently resting on his head. “Claude---Oh God! If you want to go any farther tonight, you’re going to have to stop.” 

Looking up at him and smirking, he slid off of him, keeping one hand at the base of his cock teasingly, an act which threatened to cause the young man to spend himself right there. He climbed off him for a second, just long enough to position his entrance over the hippie’s arousal and almost agonizingly slowly, sank down until their bodies were joined completely. Closing his eyes and throwing his head back, Berger forced his breathing to slow. Worried he might hurt the less experienced man, he stayed still though he was dying to move, instead allowing his hands to explore the pale skin of Claude’s chest and stomach. He was inside Claude and the heat and pressure surrounding him was almost too intense to bear. “You feel amazing…..” he whispered, waiting for the other to give him a sign he was ready. After a long moment, the other rocked forward, lifting off him and lowering himself back down, riding him slowly and smoothly. Finding a comfortable rhythm, they began to move as one, Berger’s hands resting on his waist to steady him, one hand moving over his belly to stroke his shaft. They were panting now, their bodies glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, as they moved faster, Berger angling his thrusts to try and bring his lover the most pleasure while his hand continued stroking him until he found release. Not far behind, Berger reached his peak, wanting nothing more than to stay buried inside Claude even as his length softened. Pulling him close, he kissed him deeply then asked. “Why didn’t we do that a long time ago?” Laughing softly as he wrapped around the taller man sharing a pleasant afterglow, he replied, “No idea.”  
The short-haired man’s expression was inexplicably sad when Berger suggested they should do this again, and he didn’t answer. Since his eyes were closed, the other simply assumed the the young soldier had fallen asleep and curled around him, not hearing him whisper in the dark, “Goodbye, Berger.” 

____________________________________________________________________________  
In the morning, he woke to find himself cold and alone. It wasn’t like Claude to disappear without a word, especially considering what they’d just shared. Quickly dressing, he went to search for him, hoping he could catch him before he shipped out again. It was Woof that found him and wrapped him in his coat, gave him a hot cup of coffee and offered to let him stay in his apartment. Though the large-eyed, sensitive young man had meant well, Berger was perhaps too abrupt with him when he asked, “Where’s Claude?” 

“Claude shipped out. He’s not here.” The shorter man blinked in confusion.

“I saw him...We…” The bare-chested hippie trailed off, not finishing the thought. 

“Maybe you were dreaming...or..did you smoke twiggy again? Maybe it was a bad trip?” 

“More like a really good trip,” Berger answered as he squeezed Woof’s shoulder. 

A week later, two men arrived at Claude’s house with the letter, leaving Berger with only the memory of their first and last night together.


End file.
